


Cowboy Out Of His Element

by Death_Scimitar



Series: Gundam SeeD [4]
Category: Final Fantasy VIII, Gundam Wing
Genre: Action/Adventure, Crack, Crossover, Gen, Heero's really a smug bastard, Humor, I really know nothing about archery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 21:23:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2403332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Death_Scimitar/pseuds/Death_Scimitar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Irvine's focus was guns. Firearms. Not bows. Bows were out of his element.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cowboy Out Of His Element

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about archery. I really didn't look into either. At least Irvine has an excuse?

Irvine wasn’t quite sure what he was doing. It was true that he was the go-to guy when it came to long-range weapons, but that was with a focus on firearms, not some archaic, hunter-gatherer—in his opinion, wimpy—weapon. Give him gunpowder and bullets, not wood and string. It wasn't his element.

The teen stood in front of him, waiting with an impassive expression. Though Irvine swore he saw a hint of annoyance flicker through his eyes and by the slight press of his lips.

Irvine tried again, bending the glossy wood compounded with energy crystals and adamantine into an elegant curve to attach the string to the other notch. “God. Damn!” he grunted, the string—more like sharp wire made from a mixture of beasts—began to cut through the Blue Dragon scale gloves. The bow sprang from his grasp, almost catching him on the chin, and clattered to the floor. “That’s it. That bow is impossible to string without the bow stringer. In fact, I doubt even that will help!” He picked up his hat, slapping it against his thigh before settling it back on his head. “I would suggest finding another weapon.”

“No.”

The sharpshooter blew out a long sigh. “Listen, Yuy,” he watched him bend down to pick up the bow and loose string, “I doubt we’ll be able to find anyone who is,” the younger teen ran his fingers along the wood and plucked at the string, “strong enough to—wait! You’re going to tear your hand—” Irvine’s voice died a pathetic death in his throat.

Yuy held the bow up, his left hand wrapped around the leather grip while his right pulled back on the string. He released the string, letting it twang as he lifted an eyebrow.

Irvine had been around Squall enough to know a smug look when he was given one.

**Author's Note:**

> All mistakes are mine.


End file.
